


Five Fics at Freddy's

by HeartOfGold15



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Crack Pairings, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, general shipping, poly ships, weird ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:37:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4129894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfGold15/pseuds/HeartOfGold15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mishmash of my FNAF fics, most of them shippy, but be warned, there will be character death/gore eventually. I take requests for any pairing or scenario.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Date Circle's Date Night

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for poly relationships.  
> Forgive me, Father Cawthon, for I have sinned ;n;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes love leads you right back where you started. Sometimes love is a circle.

It wasn't easy at first.

 

There was the task of comprehending such a subject and clearing away the myths surrounding it. Polyamory isn't always looked on in the brightest light, especially not when it's seen as a fancy word for unfaithfulness or an open relationship. Mike had never even heard the word before, not until Phone Guy had proposed the idea.

 

Then there was the even more arduous task of learning to share. He was on the fence about the idea until he saw how excited Jeremy was about it. If the idea made him happy, it couldn't be that bad. Yet Mike didn't realize how clingy he was until he had to share his boyfriend with his new boyfriends: often they'd ask him to move so they could sit next to Jeremy once in a while, and at night, it was a struggle to free him from Mike's mighty grip.

 

The easiest part of it all, he found, was love.

 

Each man had their own quirk that set them apart. Their own personality. For the longest time, Mike had thought you could only fall in love with one person at a time. He was proven wrong very quickly, and it lead him to wonder why monogamous relationships were so popular when a heart could love so many people at once.

 

Jeremy was the easiest person to love, because he was the first. They'd been together a few months before the 'date circle' began. Mike's favorite thing about him was how easily scared he would get. It gave him the chance to be a hero, even when his own heart was racing. Seeing the Fitzgerald smile was the most rewarding feeling in the world.

 

Second came the Phone Guy; it was hard not to get a bit attached to him. When you've been working in a place you could die anytime, and you only have one voice to guide you through it, it's difficult not to fall in love a little bit. He hadn't actually realized he had a crush until he saw Phone Guy in person. His wily brown hair and blue eyes won him over; the familiar voice introduced itself as Scott. It was a name that reminded him of happy things, and he didn't know why, but he wasn't complaining. 

 

Vincent was a surprise. He had never thought he'd be able to fall for him; sure, his flirtatious nature was a bit of a turn-on, but Mike could see through it. It was a facade to disarm others and manipulate them. He wasn't a stable person, that much he could tell, but after a few intimate nights he began to see he was not too far gone. Complicated? Yeah. An asshole? Yeah. A waste of his time? Well, Mike couldn't bring himself to say that. The day he'd looked at him and felt butterflies was the day he'd realized he was in love.

 

Already he could feel his head falling over his heels for Fritz. Mike supposed his boyfriends felt the same. He'd caught Vincent flirting with him on numerous occasions, which normally wouldn't mean anything, except when Fritz shot him down, he seemed genuinely upset. Jeremy was fast friends with Fritz, and it was obvious to spot his crush just by looking – whenever he was around him, his face would grow a bit redder, and he stuttered a bit more than usual. Scott went so far as to invite him to their house (over the phone, of course.) Mike had even caught him explaining their date circle to him, which he wasn't sure he approved – he wanted to win Fritz over first before they made any moves on him – but in the long run, the short, glasses-wearing man reacted in a way that surprised Mike: he seemed interested. 

 

It was an average night in for the boys: Huddled up on the couch watching some action movie and eating snacks. Jeremy sat in Mike's lap (much to the latter's enjoyment) and Scott sat next to them, along with Vince on the far side. Vincent, longing for more attention, sprawled across Scott and almost Mike's lap, except he pushed him off. “Go sit in Scott's lap. I've got Jeremy right now.” 

 

The disgruntled man did exactly that. A few kisses and he stopped pouting, his attention towards the movie. Popcorn was passed around until the bowl was full of nothing but kernels. Mike groaned upon realizing this. “Scott, you're on popcorn duty, and we need a refill.”

 

“I've made three bags, and you've had almost all of them. Drink some water for a change, will you?” he replied, not wanting to get up. It didn't help that the movie was reaching its climax, or that Vincent was comfortably sitting in his lap. But then the doorbell mysteriously rang, and he slid an annoyed man off his lap and stood up. When he answered the door, Fritz Smith was standing outside, damp from the rainy drizzle.

 

“I showed up. I hope that was okay. Uhm...” He looked in to see a couch full of men looking at him and a movie on the screen. His skin flared crimson, and he backed up a bit, a large raindrop falling on his head. “If I'm intruding, I'll go. I'm sorry...” Fritz murmured, about to leave, but Scott pulled him in last second. “I invited you, so of course you're welcome! Join the party. I was just about to make more popcorn,” Scott said, pointedly glaring at a now-smug Mike.

 

While he was in the kitchen doing exactly that, Fritz sat on the one free space on the couch. He felt himself calm down immensely when he recognized the faces of everyone else there; just people he knew from work, no one else. Hadn't Scott mentioned something about a date circle? He hadn't realized it happened to include two men he had feelings for., excluding Scott. 

 

Soon to be three, he realized, as an arm draped around him. The same flirtatious voice he'd heard many a time catcalling him now spoke, for the most part, normally. “So Scott did get you to show up, huh~? Good on him.” In his voice there was an undertone of jealousy, as if he wished he had seduced Fritz himself. A piece of popcorn deflected off of Vincent's face, and he looked up at a silently glaring Scott. 

 

Fritz looked at the fully occupied couch. “There isn't enough room,” he mused, but before he could politely move to the floor, Vince pulled him into his lap. The popcorn-bearing man sat down next to them and passed the snack bowl to a ravenous beast known as Mike, who began wolfing it down loudly, much to his lapmate's discontent.

 

The movie ended around half an hour later. Fritz found he didn't want to get up: He was relaxed in Vince's lap, and the male's arms were wrapped around him gently. He turned and saw that he was half-asleep. Another reason not to move.

 

Scott was the first to be up and about. He stretched, then shut off the TV. “What did you guys think of the movie?” he asked, trying not to yawn too hard. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was ten pm, and as a health conscious individual, he wanted to get to bed. Jeremy and Vincent were both fast asleep, however, and Mike was clearly in a food coma. No one but Fritz replied. “I didn't see much of it, but it was good,” he said, then chuckled, “Mind helping me get out of this?” 

 

The other awake man moved Vincent's immobile arms so Fritz could stand. “Yeah, he's, uh, a bit of a clinger at times. You know... you could be a part of this, if you want. We all like you.” Scott's heart was racing, as was Fritz's. 

 

He had to think on it for a minute. A polyamorous date circle with a group of men... Advantages? Attention. Love. All of that times four. Disadvantages? Besides society's view on polyamory, none. It actually seemed like a perfect idea, and he couldn't really deny that he liked all of them. Fritz blinked his green eyes, then nodded. 

 

“I think I'd like to be a part of this 'date circle'.”


	2. Scared Silly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott wasn't usually one to be scared, but after a night of watching nothing but horror movies with his boyfriends, he couldn't help but feel jumpy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Date Circle" AU (I really need a better shipname for them, damn) but with special emphasis on Payphone (Scott x Vincent). A request from my best friend. (: Hope you like it, even though I wrote it while I was delirious with sleep deprivation.

Scott wasn't usually one to be scared, but after a night of watching nothing but horror movies with his boyfriends, he couldn't help but feel jumpy.

He woke up in the middle of the night to a cloudy sky; no moonlight came in through the window, and his darlings were fast asleep. He could hear each individual's noise: Mike's tell-tale snore, Jeremy's quiet wheezing, Fritz's squeak, and Vincent's occasional moan. Jeremy was curled up by Mike (as always) and Fritz slept in the middle. Vincent was on the side where Scott had been cuddling with him a while ago. After he'd gotten up, Vincent had replaced him with a large, fluffy blanket, which he clung to in an adorable way.

He crept out into the dark hallway, heading for the bathroom a few long steps away. Flashbacks to a movie from earlier that night made his skin crawl. There's nothing scary out here, he reminded himself, quickly slipping inside the room and turning on the dim, flickering light. I'll have to replace that bulb tomorrow, he noted. After using the bathroom, he washed his hands quickly, wanting to get back to bed as quickly as possible. A sudden thump outside the door caused him to jump.

What was that?! He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down and dried off his still-wet hands. Probably nothing. Something just fell over. Everything will be alright... He forced himself to believe this. After all, he'd seen scarier things.

He peeked out of the creaky door. Nothing was there.

Whew, he thought to himself, silently relieved. He was walking out of the bathroom when suddenly someone grabbed him from behind, tackling him. Instantly he went into self defense mode, prepared to attack. He pushed the other person off forcefully and grabbed a nearby flashlight, shining it in the face of his attacker.

Vincent was on the floor, trying not to laugh too hard.

Scott was overcome by rage. "Vincent?!" Here he thought he was going to have to fight for his life, and it was just this goofball tacklehugging him after getting up from bed. What was his problem?

"Hi, love~" he replied, getting up from the floor and dusting himself off. "I didn't think I'd scare you that much. Myyyyy bad." He didn't sound apologetic in the slightest, and he didn't look the part either. He even sounded freaking proud of himself. Scott, embarrassed, crossed his arms and tried not to pout. "I can't believe you did that..." He sounded about to cry.

Vincent shrugged and smirked in the most irritating way. "What did you expect from me?"

"Gee, I don't know. Consideration for the feelings of others?" Under his breath, he muttered, "Psychopath." Scott stormed off to the livingroom and laid on the couch, not wanting to be near the other. His face tinted red as he thought of how easily he had been scared. It made him feel pathetic and helpless.

Vincent went back into the bedroom, waiting for Scott to come back. He can't stay mad for long. He never does! he reasoned. But the clock quickly changed from 1 AM to 2 AM, and the man was still absent. Did I upset him that much? I guess I owe him an apology.

He went to the living room, where bae was undoubtedly sleeping.

Except he was not asleep. He was awake. Quite awake.

Was he... crying?

He slowly walked over to the couch and attempted to hug him, only to be shoved away. Scott was clearly pissed still, not to mention emotional. But at the second attempt, he allowed a hug, and Vincent murmured apologies in his ear.

"I didn't mean to scare you that much... and I can't sleep without cuddling you. Come back to bed with me, dear," he pleaded, but Scott pulled him onto the couch.

"Let's just sleep out here... alone together."

\---

In the morning, Vincent woke up covered in Silly String. He was very confused until he found the note attached to his wrist that said "Ring ring, revenge is calling."

Scott still hasn't forgotten about the incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the ending and the title.  
> "Scared Silly."  
> Scott being scared. Silly string.


	3. Robotic Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotion.
> 
> That was the word. Emotion. He wasn't supposed to feel it, but he did. The agony of being ripped apart and crammed into a small space was nothing compared to that of not knowing, but feeling. Along with the heartbeat-like pounding there was electric excitement that ran through each wire in him; he could feel it in his dead heart, his rotted heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonnie x Mike, as requested by the amazing TWDnSlenderverseFangirl. I hope you like it! (: I might write more BonniexMike in the future, because this gave me AU ideas.

People without emotion are often called robotic, but some robots are far from emotionless.

Out in that dark hallway where only his silhouette could be seen, there was a pounding underneath the lavender fabric and stained metal that made up his body. It wasn't a heartbeat; he had no pulse, no blood, no veins, just cords and a corpse - but it was like a heartbeat, and he liked to think of it as such. It made him feel human again.

He'd been a person once. He knew that much. Then there was agony too awful to be remembered - on his worst nights, the robot known as Bonnie would recall it - then there was the sorrow of what was lost. He could have grown up to change the world, there was a family still mourning for him somewhere, if any of them were still alive, but all of that was lost. Then there was anger, because it wasn't fair. He'd only been seven. He hadn't done anything to deserve death, but death he had received, and over the years he had come to accept it.

Anger wouldn't bring him back to life, so he had to learn to cope. At first he thought he was damned to be seven years old forever, but he found that his soul kept aging, even though his lifeless body never would again. Maybe that was where the pounding originated. Maybe it was his own dead heart trying to start yet again, thudding inside of the tiny corpse, rotting in his robotic shell. 

There was another possibility, though, one that had to do with an outside source.

During the day, he couldn't walk around freely, but at night Bonnie could roam wherever he pleased, with one exception: The Office. Naturally, this made his child-like self curious; what was in that room? Who was in that room? He had a pressing need to figure out, at least to alleviate his boredom. On one night he had peeped through the door to see a night guard sitting at a desk, tablet in hands. He had a look of concentration on his face, as if he were in a life or death situation.

Bonnie would have stared longer, but a light switched on suddenly, illuminating where he stood. The guard (whose tag read 'Mike' on it) leapt to hit a button on the side of the wall, and the door closed. The light shut off, and the robot was alone in the dark once again. Whoever this stranger was, he didn't want to interact.

Every night, Bonnie was the first to leave the stage, in hopes of meeting this stranger. The others had their own motives. He wasn't sure exactly what they were, since they all had no way of communicating with each other, but maybe they were like his own. Perhaps they were more sinister. Who was he to say they had matured as he did? It was possible there were still child souls trapped in the other suits, souls that had no intention of growing old.

He'd begun to paint a mental picture of what Mike looked like. He'd only caught irritating glimpses of him, glimpses that left him wanting to know more. Blue eyes, he thought; surely they were blue. Brown hair? As he waited out in that hallway for his opportunity, he felt that familiar pounding that seemed to echo throughout his whole being. It wasn't logical. It didn't make sense.

Emotion.

That was the word. Emotion. He wasn't supposed to feel it, but he did. The agony of being ripped apart and crammed into a small space was nothing compared to that of not knowing, but feeling. Along with the heartbeat-like pounding there was electric excitement that ran through each wire in him; he could feel it in his dead heart, his rotted heart. 

He wanted to know him, no, he needed to know him.

One night he came up with a fool-proof plan. He'd let the others leave the stage first, then he'd go, heading straight for the door when Mike least expected it. The first few times, the man inside had been quick enough to shut him out, but the fourth time was a success. He was in the Office!

Mike was too busy checking the cameras to notice the robot behind him. Of course, it was impossible not to notice two robotic arms giving him a hug. His reaction was priceless: struggling, screaming, fearing. A pang of sympathy struck through Bonnie's robotic heart, and he let go, backing away from the human who was now looking at him in terror.

Mike's hand clutched his chest. It was easy to tell his heart - an alive, beating, functioning heart - was probably pounding in his chest. Bonnie could almost hear it if he strained hard enough. Mike seemed to be waiting on something. Death, perhaps? The robot shook his head. That was not his intention in the slightest. It was a shame they had no way to communicate besides body language. The once-human could understand his words, but Mike wouldn't understand his screeching; it would only serve to terrify him further, wouldn't it?

"Y-You're not going to kill me?" he asked, his eyes still wide with fear. He seemed to be calming down. 

Bonnie shook his head. With metal fingers, he attempted to form a sign of his feelings. 

They shaped into a heart - a robotic heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send requests if you have any. My only guidelines are no Animatronic x Reader fics unless the reader is an animatronic too, or the animatronic is a human. That's seriously it! ^u^ Any other ship is fine.


	4. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent has a breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This was fun to write ^u^ A big thanks to SpiritPie for requesting it!

Breakdowns aren't fun for anyone.  
  
Vincent was in the middle of one. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what had triggered it. Was it something someone said? Something someone did? He didn't know anymore. All he knew was that he was lucky he made it home before the wave of emotion hit him. He had just locked the door back up when it hit him, and he sat down, knees pulled up to his chest and back against the cold door. He was shaking. When had that started, and why? Why were tears falling?  
  
There wasn't always an explanation for these breakdowns, he'd learned. Built up stress was a likely cause for these sudden attacks. Nothing was in his mind but fear and pain; the fear of pain, and the pain of fear. Neither were emotions he was used to or content with feeling. They were out of place in his heart, and he didn't know what to do or how to make them go away. _It's another blessing_ , he thought somewhat calmly, _that no one is here besides me..._  
  
These fits usually lasted around fifteen minutes or so. He supposed he could survive that long, even if the meantime was unpleasant. Thankfully, MIke wasn't due home for another half-hour.  
The man still had his pride, and a huge part of that involved not being seen crying. He could only imagine how his boyfriend would react to such patheticness…

 

A few minutes later and he sobbed even harder, feeling as if someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. It hurt. Vincent was so afraid, and for what? There was nothing to be scared of, or maybe there was, but he couldn't name it. His shirt sleeve dulled the flow of tears, but more replaced them in a seemingly-endless cycle. Ugh, gross, he thought to himself, but at least it will be over soon.

 

The sudden sound of keys in the door behind him made him jump up and move away. Someone was home, and the only other person with keys to the house was Mike…

 

He slid down the wall again, falling into the position he had been in before. Was this his fear? That he would be seen in such a lowly state? His fingers dug into his legs, squeezing them tighter to his chest. He buried his face in his knees, willing himself to be invisible so Mike wouldn't see. The sound of a door shutting was heard, and Mike stood at the door, mouth open and blue eyes wide.

 

"Um - Vincent? Are you- what's wrong?" the other man asked. Vince heard footsteps and suddenly felt his back being rubbed. It was a calming feeling, but the tears still dripped, continuing their moist onslaught. He felt Mike's strong but gentle hand attempt to pry him from his knees, but Vince remained there firmly. It was bad enough Mike knew he was crying. He didn't need to see it, too.

 

However, his boyfriend won him over, and he found himself gazing into his calm blue eyes. Before he knew it, he was hugging him hard enough to kill him and crying into his blue shirt. He had so many questions in his mind, but only managed to mumble out one. "Why are you home early?"

 

Mike kissed Vincent's cheek affectionately. "I got out of my meeting early. I'm glad I did, too. What made you so upset?" He continued to rub his back and started to hum soothingly, like a mother would to her child. Oddly enough, the teardrops ceased. Vince rubbed his eyes once again, and they stayed dry this time. His voice came out quieter than usual.

 

"It just… happens sometimes… I started crying and I didn't know why. But it's no big deal. I'm just sorry you had to see it." He looked away, embarrassed. Even though he felt like he might burst into tears again, he managed to hold it in. His heartbeat was returning to normal at last.

 

"Hey, hey. It's okay. I'm not going to think any less of you for having emotions," Mike said, then stood, offering a hand to help the other up. "Come on. Let's get you to bed. You probably need a nap or something," he continued as Vincent grabbed his hand and stood up on shaky feet. He nearly fell over, but Mike caught him, hugging him close.

 

  
There's nothing like the feeling of warm, fluffy blankets when you're tired, and Vince knew that all too well. The comforting bed welcomed him, and he sunk into it. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep. His boyfriend's hand drifted through his hair. Mike gazed at him with love (and a bit of shallow amusement) in his eyes, then kissed his forehead, bidding him goodnight.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Moist onslaught' is my new favorite phrase.  
> I seriously want to write PWP for the sole purpose of using that phrase again omfg.  
> If you have any requests, the comments are below ^w^


	5. No Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent is feeling down. He tries to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for self harm, depression and burning  
> alsO FLUFF

For once, there was no reason.  There was no reason for him to feel like shit. Everything was  _perfect,_ and yet he felt exhausted of living. Tired and sad, even though his life was great. It was a bit pathetic, really. He had nothing to complain about, so why did his heart disagree?  
  
It wasn't even just sadness. It was pure exhaustion. Irritability that could become anger at the flip of a coin. Emptiness. Wishing he would cease breathing. Wanting to run in front of a car. Abstract feelings, but threatening nonetheless. Logic was not needed to feel.  
  
Vincent sat on the edge of his bed, in deep thought. Though he wasn't really thinking, but feeling, feeling so deeply it could be mistaken for thinking. And yet at the same time he felt nothing at all.  
  
He wanted to feel something. To be real.  
  
It wouldn't hurt too much, would it?  
  
Grabbing a lighter, he flicked it on and held it against his skin. It stung. He stared.  
  
Feeling pain was better than nothing.   
  
"... Vincent?"  
  
Ah. The one person who could reason with him, standing in the doorway. He smiled, and like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar, he dropped the lighter. It had been nice to feel something for the moment. _Pain is a rare blessing.  
  
_ He was quickly embraced in a tight hug, one that probably hurt more than burning himself ever would. Scott mumbled something. Words. What were they...?  
  
"Why would you do that to yourself? Don't. It's stupid." Hearing the pain in his boyfriend's voice snapped Vincent out of it, and he hugged back.  
  
"I won't do it again."  
  
 _No promises._


End file.
